A Look Back
by JessieBess
Summary: <html><head></head>Twenty years after Sybil left Downton, Cora and Sybil reflect on the past</html>
1. Chapter 1

She had felt melancholy all day although nothing had happened that day to make her feel so discontent. It was a day indistinguishable from any other day; nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Maybe that was the problem.

She knew she should feel happy. After all these years she still loved her husband although it was no longer the deep passionate love of her youth but rather a familiarity and contentment. Both of them were healthy in spite their advancing years. Despite their financial problems they were still in the place she had called home for almost 50 years.

But those financial problems had taken a toll. They had lost the London town house and a great deal of the estate's land and other properties. The number of servants was vastly reduced. She no longer had the luxury of a personal lady's maid. Breakfast was no longer taken on a tray while lounging in her bed. They still changed clothes for dinner but it was no longer the gowns or tails of yesteryear. Thank heavens Violet or Carson hadn't lived to see that.

But it was the personal relationships that had suffered more greatly. Robert and Matthew often clashed over how to best handle their financial problems and these clashes had left a strain on their relationship. Although she would never tell Robert, or for that matter anyone, she was glad that it was Matthew that usually prevailed. She feared that if it had been left to Robert their current situation would be worse. After all, it was Robert who had lost her fortune.

As great as the strain was between Robert and Matthew, the strain between Mary and Matthew was even greater, and to Cora, sadder. Their love that had once been so bright now seemed faded. Of all of them, Mary had the hardest time adjusting to their situation. It was she who still wanted to carry on as if nothing had ever changed. It was she who wanted to still wear the latest fashions, who had resisted most the idea of no longer wearing such formal clothes for dinner. It was Mary who wanted to maintain all the old traditions and the pretense of an endless fund of money to live a lifestyle no longer affordable or feasible.

It didn't help that Edith had married a wealthy merchant. While not of the peerage, he was able to give Edith all the material possessions she wanted and, like her sister, Edith wanted so much if only to show up her sister.

Even today her beloved ten year old grandson Ben couldn't cheer her up. The younger son of Mary and Matthew was Cora's favorite grandchild. She knew she shouldn't have favorites but Ben was the only one that was truly a joy to be around. She found Edith's two daughters too shallow and prissy. Mary's daughter and older son had too much of Mary's haughtiness and snobbery. Ben was the only one of her grandchildren that was sweet-natured, kind, and generous. He reminded her so much of Sybil.

Sybil. If Cora was honest with herself, she knew that was why she was so discontent today. Today was Sybil's birthday. It had been 20 years since she had celebrated a birthday with Sybil. It had been 20 years since that awful night. That night when Sybil and the chauffer had told the family of their love and their plans to marry. The night when Robert threw Sybil out of the house. The night when the Crawley's disowned Sybil and banned her from Downton as long as she was with the chauffer.

Cora took the faded photograph wrinkled by handling out of her nightstand. It was the last one she had of Sybil, a candid photograph showing a laughing Sybil with the wind gently blowing her hair. The tears fell down Cora's cheeks as she lovingly looked at the photograph. "Oh my baby. My beautiful baby. I am so sorry" cried Cora.

In a small cottage on the Irish coast, much laughter could be heard coming from the group sitting around the dining table. The remains of a chocolate cake sat on the table. Looking at her youngest daughter's chocolate smeared face, Sybil smiled as she said it was bedtime. This was met with some groans but Sybil held fast.

"I'll get Claire and Emma ready for bed if the boys finish the dishes" volunteered Aislin. Before either boy could complain, Aislin continued "remember it's our birthday gift to Ma that she have a day of no chores."

"Well in that case, I think I'll take your Ma for a walk on the beach." Tom said as he rose from the table picking up the half full bottle of wine.

Turning to Sybil, he said "My love, would you care to finish this bottle while sitting on the beach looking at the moon and stars?"

As Sybil sat on the blanket with Tom's arm wrapped around her shoulder drawing her close, she reflected on her birthday. It was a surprise when Tom suggested they spend a few days on the coast since they had already taken their holiday in the west of Ireland. Tom had made all the arrangements and found the cottage. The weather had cooperated and was warm and sunny. Today had been a perfect day spent romping on the beach with her family. Although she thought the water was a tad too cold for swimming, the boys and Emma begged her to join them in the water. So while she ventured into the water to join them she found playing in the sand with little Claire much more enjoyable. Tom and Aislin had cooked dinner while Sybil remained on the beach with the other children looking for shells.

She had everything she could have ever wanted, five healthy and happy children, a job she loved, and of course Tom. Those first few years of marriage had been tough but not because she doubted her and Tom's love or her decision to leave Downton. She had had to learn so much – how to shop for food, how to cook, how to clean a house. It had taken her far longer than she ever thought to find a nursing job and Tom's job didn't pay much. After spending all day at the newspaper, Tom often worked in the evening or on weekends at a garage just to put food on their table. Their tiny flat was so cold in the winter it's a wonder one of them didn't die of pneumonia . But when Sybil thought of those days, she most often thought of how their love had blossomed, of the evenings spent in front of the fire curled up with each other reading or discussing Tom's writings or the situation in Ireland and how most of those evenings ended with them making love whether in front of that fire or buried deep in the blankets of their bed.

But they had prospered. Tom still worked for the newspaper but also wrote articles for various magazines published not only in Ireland but England and America as well and the only car he worked on was his own. She had risen to a nursing supervisor and taught some classes for student nurses. They now lived in a large beautiful house in a nice area of Dublin. While little Claire would just be starting school, their oldest daughter, Aislin, would go to university in the next term. She would be the first Branson to attend university.

Looking up at the brightly shining moon and star lit night with Tom's arm draped around her, Sybil felt such contentment. Turning to face the man she loved so deeply she smiled "Thank you Tom. For this holiday. For this life."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I had written what I considered a one-shot quite some time before I finally posted it. It was the first story I ever posted. At that time, I had no intention of writing a follow-up to that but the reviewers all commented that they would like to see Cora and Sybil meeting. I still didn't consider doing so until just this week. There are just two chapters. I'll post the second next week.**_

It was one of those cold dreary winter days, a day for staying inside sitting near the fireplace. Mary thought it was the perfect time to go through some of those boxes she and Matthew had found when they cleared out Crawley House.

Mary couldn't believe it had been over two years since Isobel died. She had often thought that the indomitable Isobel would outlast both her and Matthew. It had surprised Mary how deeply she mourned when Isobel died. She thought she had heard a saying about how sometimes you don't realize a person's worth until they're gone. For Mary, that was certainly true about Isobel.

It had taken a couple of months before Matthew was willing to clear out Isobel's house. There had been lots of tears and just as much laughter as Matthew and Mary reminisced while sorting through a life time of possessions. Mary thought that though Crawley house now had no visible sign of Isobel having ever graced its rooms, it would forever be Isobel's house.

After several days of working through Isobel's things, Matthew had decided to put off going through several boxes of what on first glance looked like old letters, photographs, and such. He knew they didn't contain any important documents like bills or a will that needed immediate attention. So the boxes had been brought to Downton and stored in an unused room and untouched until now.

The first box Mary looked at contained photographs of Matthew's childhood. After looking at a few of the photos, Mary thought it would be fun to go through these with Matthew.

The next box had several newspaper pages on top some of which were quite old and faded. They were from a variety of newpapers, The Manchester Guardian, The Irish Times, The New York Times. Mary couldn't imagine why in the world Isobel had saved them.

That is until she lifted them out of the box and saw what was beneath. Then she looked back at the torn newspaper pages and saw the name. A name that had not been uttered in this house for over 20 years. A name that made Mary's heart quicken as she closed the box.

Mary found Matthew at his desk in his office. Unlike her father who liked to work at a desk in the library, Matthew had taken one of the former bedrooms to use as his office. It was a corner room with windows overlooking one of Downton's gardens. It was a quiet room where Matthew could work without being disturbed by the noises of his children or the servants.

Mary didn't bother to knock before she threw open the door. "Did you know your mother kept in contact with Sybil?"

Matthew looked up from his desk to see his wife looking upset. He immediately looked out the window and sighed. "Yes I knew."

"All these years and you never said anything. How could you?" Mary cried out. "How could you keep this from me?"

Matthew looked closely at Mary's anguished face. What could he say? What should he say?

He rose and went to hold his wife but she stepped back from his embrace. "Tell me Matthew why did you keep this a secret? She's my sister."

"Yes a sister. A sister that was thrown out of this house. A sister that was told she could never come back as long as she was with him." Matthew realized his voice was a little too loud. "Not one of you stood up to him. You all let Robert bellow at them and say all sorts of vile things. She didn't deserve that."

"As I recall you were also in that room. You and Lavina. I didn't hear you say anything." Mary roared right back.

Matthew looked as if Mary had struck him. He turned and again looked out the window without seeing anything beyond this room. Finally he quietly said, "I've always regretted that but at the time I didn't think it was my place to say anything. I wasn't really a part of this family."

Mary, with tears streaming down her face, didn't say word. Instead she turned and ran out of the room.

Matthew sat heavily down in the arm chair. He could remember that night like it was last week not over twenty years ago. They had all been shocked that Sybil was in love with the chauffeur and was going to marry him. But as shocking as that was, it was Robert's response that chilled Matthew. He couldn't believe that Robert would really disown Sybil. He thought that the next day or shortly thereafter, Robert would calm down and reluctantly accept Sybil's decision. But at the time Matthew didn't realize how aristocratic society really operated.

During the season which happened shortly after Sybil left, Matthew was appalled at the comments he heard regarding Sybil. Kind, sweet, warm-hearted Sybil was depicted variously as a harlot, a nurse whose idea of nursing was offering physical comforts, or a naïve girl who allowed herself to be seduced by a chauffeur. To hear the gossip she had brought shame upon not only herself but her family. One night of "the season" was all Matthew could bear.

Matthew opened one of his desk drawers and removed an envelope. It contained the letter Sybil had written to him after Isobel's death. Of all the cards and notes he had gotten, Sybil's was the one that brought the most comfort to him. Sybil obviously thought highly of Isobel and seemed to know her almost as well as Matthew. Sybil's letter was touching and heartfelt and Matthew was grateful that Isobel and Sybil had stayed in touch.

It was also the only direct contact he had ever had with Sybil in these past twenty years. While his mother had shared some photographs that Sybil had sent and sometimes discussed her with him, the only contact he had initiated with Sybil was when he sent the note telling her Isobel had died. He knew that his mother had continued writing to Sybil when she learned of her illness and that her death was not a shock to Sybil.

Later that afternoon Mary found her mother in her upstairs sitting room.

"Mama, do you ever think about Sybil?" Mary quietly asked.

Cora stood and walked over to one of the windows. She spent a few minutes looking out at the grounds of Downton.

"Mama"

Cora turned to Mary with tears in her eyes. "I wonder if she's happy. I wonder of the kind of life she's had. At Christmas or New Year's or other holidays I wonder if she's celebrating. On her birthday I …" Cora paused as the tears rolled down her face. "I think of her every day."

Mary then proceeded to tell her mother about Isobel's box that contained cards, letters, and photographs. She pulled out a photograph from her pocket.

"This is from Christmas two years ago."

Cora took the photograph from Mary's outstretched hand. She stared at the photograph with her hand running over it. Sybil looked as beautiful as the day she left Downton. She and Branson were sitting on a couch with his arm around Sybil's shoulder. Cora hadn't remembered Branson as being so handsome. Sitting on Sybil's lap was a child that looked about four years old. She was the spitting image of her mother at that age. Standing to Sybil's side was an older girl while another girl was standing to Tom's side. Two boys were kneeling on the floor in front in their parents. For the first time ever she saw five grandchildren she never knew existed.

"Do you know their names?" Cora asked so softly that Mary strained to hear her.

"No. But there's quite a few more photographs in the box and the letters and cards which I haven't looked at." Mary replied.

Cora and Mary spent the rest of the day going through the box. It seemed that every Christmas, Sybil had sent Isobel a photograph of her family. Some had obviously been taken earlier in the year such as at picnics or on outings to the beach. But there were also photographs of each of the children at various ages as well as some of Sybil or Tom with one or more the children. _Aislin … Aedan … Eogan … Emma … Claire_. Cora studied each picture carefully. Sybil's children. Her grandchildren. Lives that until now she never knew existed.

Judging from the earliest photographs Aislin was now probably around 17. She was the spitting image of her mother as was the littlest girl Claire. The other three looked much more like their father. But all were good looking and looked happy and healthy.

As she looked at the photographs, tears filled Cora's eyes until she finally started crying. "I've missed so much."

Cora devoured each letter with no feeling of guilt for reading someone else's letters. She was hurt that Isobel had never hinted in any way that she was in contact with Sybil. She felt that as a mother Isobel should have known how much these photographs would have meant to her. But if she was honest with herself, why should Isobel have felt that? Cora herself had never mentioned Sybil's name to anyone since that fateful night.

"I'm going to Ireland." Cora said before she finished reading all the letters.

"Papa …" Mary began before Cora sharply cut her off.

"I don't care what your father says or thinks. I listened to him twenty years ago and lost my daughter." Mary had never heard her mother sound so defiant.

"I now have a chance to make up for that."

Once Cora made up her mind nothing could deter her. She refused to tell Robert of her plans or that she had even discovered the letters and photographs. She told him she was meeting American friends visiting southern England. Only Mary knew she was going to Ireland. While Mary begged her mother to let her come along, Cora declined. She needed to make amends to Sybil and thought it would be best to do so alone.

Two weeks later Cora was in Dublin. A car and driver hired through her hotel easily delivered Cora to the address shown on one of the letters addressed to Isobel. She sat in the car staring at the house collecting her thoughts.

Cora had been unsure what to expect. Sybil's neighborhood seemed prosperous. The wide tree-lined street had an assortment of large detached and semi-detached homes. Sybil's house was a large brick semi-detached home with a small well-tended front garden. There was a driveway on the side of it which led to garage. White lace curtains graced the oversized bay windows on either side of the large front door. It looked like a well-cared for home of a successful businessman.

Taking a deep breath, Cora finally exited the car. As she approached the front porch, Cora realized her hands her shaking. She took a few deep breaths and then rang the bell.

The door was answered by the young child Cora recognized as Sybil's youngest, Claire. Although she knew from the photographs the child looked like her mother, Cora was still not prepared for the sight before her. She felt she had been transported back in time and was looking at a six year old Sybil. Tears filled Cora's eyes.

The child even had Sybil's smile but there was no mistaking the Irish accent. "Hello" said the curious child.

When Cora was unable to speak, the child asked "Has the cat got your tongue?"

Finally collecting herself, Cora took a deep breath, smiled generously, and responded "No. You just remind me of another child I knew. Is your mama here?"

The child looked bewildered. "Mama?" she asked hesitantly.

"I mean your mother. May I see your mother."

Before the child could respond, a petit older woman came to the door. "Who is it Claire?"

Claire opened the door wide enough for the other woman to see Cora. "This lady wants to see mummy" she said before scampering away.

"I'd like to see Sybil. Sybil Branson." Cora told the woman who continued to stare at her.

From somewhere in the house, Cora heard a voice she hadn't heard in twenty years. "Ma, who's at the door?"

The woman finally nodded to Cora and said tartly "I'll see if she's in" and shut the door.

Cora felt she waited an eternity before the door was finally opened and she looked into the face of her long lost beloved daughter.


End file.
